


sehnsucht

by legendaryguitarman



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-10-29 03:57:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10845996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/legendaryguitarman/pseuds/legendaryguitarman
Summary: it’s probably the worst kept secret at EXO Corporation that kyungsoo absolutely detests baekhyun. what no one knows is that whilst they hate each other’s guts, neither of them can deny that the other is a worthy investment. like they always say: keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.





	sehnsucht

Kyungsoo is far from being the luckiest person in the world. So many things have gone wrong in his life, like that one time when he had lost a game of strip-Monopoly to Luhan and ended up walking home in his underpants, or that other time when he had accidentally fallen asleep during his lunch break due to an all-night marathon of Disney films and Sehun had taken it upon himself to bedazzle Kyungsoo’s face with a beard and glasses in black Sharpie. But there’s one thing that outranks everything else by far—and that is meeting Byun Baekhyun.  
  
It’s probably the worst kept secret at EXO Corporation that Kyungsoo absolutely hates, hates, _hates_ Baekhyun. That they’re at each other’s throats every chance they get; that Kyungsoo would rather do shots with bleach and perform the ancient Japanese ritual of seppuku to die with honour instead of falling into the hands of the enemy. There are a number of things he dislikes about Baekhyun, including, but not limited to, that insufferable, tiny freckle on Baekhyun’s upper lip and the way his laugh is so obnoxiously loud and irritating and how he insists on going out of his way to annoy Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo detests the way Baekhyun smirks at him like this whole thing is a game. It isn’t a game, not in this world where it’s game over if you make a single wrong move.  
  
Ever since the beginning, they’ve contested with each other for everything, striving to be the best. Whether it’s something petty, like whose suit has been ironed the straightest (last week, it’d been Kyungsoo’s) or who’s gotten the most sales this month (Baekhyun) or who can hold their liquor better (always Kyungsoo), they’ll each do what it takes to win. However, Baekhyun is a dirty, little cheat. He doesn’t play fair. He has sneaky tricks up his sleeve and if there were rules to this cat-and-mouse chase they play, Kyungsoo knows that Baekhyun would be breaking every single one of them.  
  
Above all, though, Kyungsoo abhors the way Baekhyun is a gossip and can never keep his mouth shut. Along with Kim Jongdae, who works in the M division of the business, they form an unstoppable duo of the bitchiest people on the entire planet so it probably doesn’t help that Kyungsoo had maybe, sort of, definitely gotten on the wrong side of Baekhyun right at the start of his career, leading to a frosty relationship between the two of them. He thinks what Baekhyun does is childish and stupid, and he thinks Baekhyun likes to talk a little bit too much. He thinks that someone needs to shut Baekhyun up and show him his place—  
  
by stuffing him full of cock.  
  
It’s almost laughably easy to coerce Baekhyun into his office with the preposition of working out somewhat of a truce and resolving what Luhan likes to call ‘gay, antagonistic flirting,’ which is ridiculous because they don’t flirt. Flirting involves shy smiles and coy games of footsie underneath the table and fluttering eyelashes. What Kyungsoo and Baekhyun have involves restrained homicidal urges because Kyungsoo doesn’t even like him; it's undeniable that there is some degree of mutual attraction between them but it's complicated. Like hell does he want to resolve things with Baekhyun. They both know what the heated glares Kyungsoo sends him means—sour, bitter, with a tinge of dominance. When Kyungsoo jabs him in the stomach, faux-playfully with thinly veiled contempt, and his fist thumps into Baekhyun’s ribcage as he laughs at one of Chanyeol’s jokes, it’s no coincidence that Baekhyun swallows and squirms uncomfortably, forcing a tight-lipped smile. If their rivalry is the worst kept secret, then the best kept secret at EXO Corporation is that whilst both of them hate each other’s guts, neither of them can deny that the other is a worthy investment. Like they always say: Keep your friends close, but your enemies closer.

It’s the only reason why he lets Baekhyun slink into his office an hour later, under the pretence that they’re having a meeting, and it’s the only reason why he’s initiating the first touch to take control, tugging Baekhyun along as they kiss. They stumble towards the desk, the edge of solid oak hitting the back of his knees, and he feels something boiling in his gut when Baekhyun’s lips twist into a smirk against his own, mumbling, “Eager, much?”  
  
“Shut up,” Kyungsoo replies curtly, kissing him to do just that.  
  
He doesn’t like Baekhyun, not at all, but he quite likes this. He likes it because it’s clear where the power lies; it’s the subtle things like how he grabs onto Baekhyun’s forearm, fingers pressing into pale skin just hard enough to imprint the beginnings of purple-blue bruises, and the particular flick of his tongue as he leads the dance. Every time they do this, whatever this is—there isn’t a label that can fit what they have, and besides, what can they call it anyway?—Kyungsoo is a breaking wave against the shore and Baekhyun is swept up in his tide. That isn’t to say that he doesn’t try to fight back, though. It’s just that Kyungsoo doesn’t let him. He’s seen Baekhyun when he’s been reduced to a whimpering, sobbing mess, and he gets this immense feeling of satisfaction that is something akin to addiction because it’s intoxicating, absolutely, to see that side of Baekhyun no one else can. He’s drunk on the control, the power that he has over Baekhyun when they’re like this, because he is the only person who can make Baekhyun become like this.  
  
There are certain spots he’s memorised that hit all the right nerves, that can make Baekhyun moan in no time flat. He’s fully mapped out Baekhyun’s body, and on some nights, he finds himself thinking about it more than he should, thinking about how gorgeous Baekhyun had looked that one time, body glowing from the moonlight bathing his body with the slight sheen of sweat, and the indescribable urge he had, at that second, to just lean down and kiss Baekhyun. He doesn’t really know what that’s supposed to mean and he doesn’t want to know; instead, he pushes it out of his mind as he makes a sound low in his throat, rumbling in his chest, and slips a hand around the nape of Baekhyun’s neck, playing with the collar of Baekhyun’s shirt. He tugs it back far enough to let his fingertips hook in, brushing across Baekhyun’s skin to elicit a shudder he can get from no one else, and allows himself a tiny, smug smile at the reaction. Baekhyun pushes back, pushes Kyungsoo down, sitting him on the border of the table, and Kyungsoo lets him have this moment to fool himself into thinking he has control. Then, he wraps an arm around Baekhyun’s waist, yanking him into his lap, and revels in the way Baekhyun lets out a moan at their hips joining together.  
  
They kiss, just like that, for a while, with their foreheads pressed together and hips grinding against each other through expensive designer trousers as they seek the friction they crave, and Kyungsoo is no stranger to yearning. He feels a warm swooping in his stomach that he shouldn’t, like a first kiss under the summer rain, and it feels a lot nicer than he’ll ever admit. So he does the only thing he knows how to do and kisses harder, biting on Baekhyun’s pouting bottom lip until Baekhyun breaks away and is gasping for _more, more, more._ It’s so easy to indulge him, Kyungsoo thinks, simply by dancing his fingers a little further down, but that’s not what he’s here for today. Today, Baekhyun is here to be taught a lesson.  
  
Hands cup Baekhyun’s jaw and fingers press hard into his velvety skin as Kyungsoo looks him in the eye, meeting dilated pupils, blown wide in a sky of brown. His lips are parted as he breathes shallowly, red and slick and swollen, and his hair is slightly mussed from hands combing through. Maybe in another universe, Kyungsoo would think he looks beautiful, but he just thinks Baekhyun looks wrecked. Already, he looks like a mess, and the image engraves itself into Kyungsoo’s mind as a phantom sensation on his body, always. It’s a constant reminder of why Kyungsoo keeps coming back to him.  
  
He doesn’t need words to tell Baekhyun what to do; a look is exchanged between heavy pants, and then, Baekhyun is dipping down between Kyungsoo’s legs, tugging down his pants. Baekhyun’s hands are cold as he spreads Kyungsoo’s thighs apart, fitting himself between them, and two breaths later, those hands are curling around Kyungsoo’s cock. Watching his cock slide in and out of Baekhyun’s loose grip has an inferno stirring in the pit of his gut and a phantom heat on his own hands, an increasing want pulsing in his veins. He lets the fire spread to every inch of his body, and threads his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair, black feathering over pale cream, as he remembers the image of Baekhyun with legs propped up on his shoulders as his fingers thrust leisurely into Baekhyun’s ass. It serves as anticipation for what is to come, later, and he groans through his gritted teeth, hips bucking up. Baekhyun peers at him and raises an eyebrow, an infuriating smile playing on his lips, and Kyungsoo’s grip tightens on Baekhyun’s hair, just _so_ so that his breath involuntarily hitches and his ears start to flush red.  
  
“Did you think it was funny?” Kyungsoo starts to ask, voice dropping lower. He is careful to keep his words steady, clearly enunciating every syllable even as Baekhyun’s first jerks him off faster, sliding wetly up the length of his cock. “Did you think it was funny when you slapped me on the ass during a _meeting?”_  
  
“Mmm, well,” Baekhyun replies with a short laugh, “yeah. I thought it was funny. Jongdae laughed. He thought it was funny. Maybe you should just loosen up a little bit.”  
  
“God, you’re annoying,” says Kyungsoo. “Maybe you should just shut the fuck up a little bit.”  
  
Baekhyun’s grin turns salacious.  
  
“Make me,” he says.  
  
It’s a challenge.  
  
Kyungsoo has never been one to back down.  
  
“Gladly,” he says.  
  
He can see right through Baekhyun and his façade. He puts up this act, a typical class clown, but when it comes down to it, Baekhyun is a bottom bitch who needs to be put in his place. Who _wants_ to be put in his place, who wants to be tamed, who wants to be dominated. Perhaps his façade is some silly mask, perhaps it’s something more, but he doesn’t falter when Kyungsoo grips the base of his cock and guides it to Baekhyun’s mouth, pushing the tip against Baekhyun’s plush lips and coating them with a thin film of precome. Baekhyun’s tongue darts out immediately to taste, swiping over his bottom lip, and then, his mouth opens, almost obediently, like a puppy keen to please, and Kyungsoo thrusts his cock into that wonderful, wet heat, lips wrapping around his cock, enticed by the dark look in Baekhyun’s eyes.  
  
He knows Baekhyun’s limits, knows what and how much he can take, so he doesn’t hesitate when his fists twist harder in Baekhyun’s hair and he rocks his hips forward, driving his cock in further. It feels like heaven; Baekhyun’s lips are sliding along the shaft of his cock and suckling at the head as Kyungsoo thrusts his hips leisurely. Baekhyun’s tongue presses on the underside, expertly tracing the bulge of the vein, and perhaps it’s a sign that they’ve done this too much now that they’re so familiar with each other’s bodies. That isn’t necessarily a bad thing, though. It’s definitely not a bad thing at all if it means Kyungsoo gets amazing blowjobs. Baekhyun might talk too damn much but his mouth has talents when it comes down to this.  
  
Gradually, the coil in his stomach tightens, building up to the white light he desires so much, and his pace quickens as his hips jerk faster into Baekhyun’s waiting mouth. He tips his head back, sweat running down his neck, and moans loudly when Baekhyun nearly pulls off to keep his lips just around the head to suck hard and flick his tongue against the slit, letting the precome bloom on his tastebuds. Baekhyun bobs his head down further, looking like pure filth with his hair ruffled and cheeks flushed and saliva and precome dripping down his chin, far from the clean-cut image he has at business meetings and the cocky, confident boy Kyungsoo had met on their first day.  
  
“So hungry for cock,” he mumbles, pushing away the hair that is matted to Baekhyun’s forehead with sweat so he can see Baekhyun’s eyes better. They’re so dark, so bright, and Baekhyun’s gaze flicks up with a glimmer of _something,_ and then back down again as he takes almost all of Kyungsoo’s cock in his mouth. Kyungsoo lets out a choked gasp and his cock twitches with the want of release as the tip barely brushes against the back of Baekhyun’s throat. Baekhyun gags a little bit, pulls off, and then tries again, slowly inching down, down, down, and chipping away at Kyungsoo’s self restraint until his lips touch the base of Kyungsoo’s cock. He hollows his cheeks around it, creating a vacuum that has Kyungsoo moaning out Baekhyun’s name.  
  
At the worst possible time, a knock sounds at the door, knuckles echoing against wood. Both of them freeze; Baekhyun unintentionally swallows around Kyungsoo’s cock, suddenly nervous that they might get caught, and Kyungsoo has to muffle his groan by sinking his teeth into his lower lip. Hastily, he yanks Baekhyun off his cock, taking a second to admire how Baekhyun’s mouth has left a pretty sheen on the angry red of his skin. As he tucks himself back in, still hard and throbbing, he hisses to Baekhyun, “Under the desk. Hide.”  
  
He goes to his chair and pulls it out, just enough for Baekhyun to crawl underneath the table, before he takes a seat and clears his throat, hoping he doesn’t come off as wrecked as he really is. “Come in,” he says. Winces. His voice is shaky.  
  
It’s Sehun who pushes the door open, a wad of papers in his hands. As he enters the room, Kyungsoo feels Baekhyun’s fingers trailing up the inner side of his thigh, can almost feel Baekhyun’s smirk on his skin, and the heel of Baekhyun’s hand rubs against Kyungsoo’s erection teasingly, mockingly. He stifles a moan by gritting his teeth together. There’s no way that Sehun can’t sense the neediness and arousal heavy in the room, or see the way Kyungsoo looks like he’s just walked through the lesbian section of Redtube, and if he does, he doesn’t show it, face neutral as always.  
  
“For you,” he says, setting the papers down onto the table. “From Minseok.” He raises an eyebrow at the un-alphabetised, un-colour-coded mess of files spread out on the surface from Kyungsoo and Baekhyun’s earlier escapade, and for a moment, heartbeat stopping, Kyungsoo thinks he might say something about it; instead, he turns on his heel to walk out, a secret smile appearing on his face.  
  
So he knows. As long as he doesn’t blab about it, Kyungsoo doesn’t care. What he does care about it shoving his cock back into Baekhyun’s mouth and moves to slide out, but Baekhyun has a firm grip on his thighs, scrabbling at the fabric in an effort to pull it down. He is still on his knees under the desk, on his knees where he belongs. He doesn’t mind it as much as he complains about it because there is an undeniable attraction between them, some kind of spark that neither of them can explain so they just put it down to their mutual hate; things break, and from the start, they were already broken. Maybe in another life, they could’ve had a helluva story, but they don’t have time for _what ifs._ They just take what they get.  
  
What Kyungsoo takes from Baekhyun is what Baekhyun readily gives him; Baekhyun pretends to fight back, pretends that he wants to fight for control, but they both know that he is completely submissive to Kyungsoo. For someone who likes to be so obtrusively annoying about always one-upping him, Kyungsoo doesn’t know why that is, but he’s not complaining when he’s lifting his hips up slightly so Baekhyun can wriggle his pants back down, just enough so he can tug Kyungsoo’s cock out. Kyungsoo scoots forward in his seat so he can press it against Baekhyun’s lips; Baekhyun swallows him down quickly, his lips quickly inching down Kyungsoo’s cock, driven by desire and desperation. Kyungsoo’s cock is still hard, even after the interruption—perhaps even impossibly harder at the possibility of getting caught in the very position they’re in now. If Sehun had entered a moment later, Baekhyun could’ve had a face full of Kyungsoo’s come, white dripping down his cheeks and his mouth, and that only serves to have Kyungsoo thrusting his hips faster, harder, into the hotness of Baekhyun’s mouth until he comes down Baekhyun’s throat with a guttural moan and a fierce clench of his fists in Baekhyun’s hair.  
  
Baekhyun swallows it down as if it is second nature, wipes away what is left on his lip and dripping down the corners of his mouth, and crawls out from the table to stand up on shaky legs. He grins and surges forward to kiss Kyungsoo hard, so hard that Kyungsoo can taste himself on Baekhyun’s tongue and teeth and the roof of his mouth, and Kyungsoo kisses him back feverishly, if only to kiss that stupid smirk off Baekhyun’s face.  
  
“Hey,” Baekhyun murmurs, licking at his own lips.  
  
“What,” Kyungsoo replies irritably, chasing Baekhyun’s mouth. Baekhyun laughs. It’s not entirely unpleasant to Kyungsoo’s ears. He doesn’t quite like that.  
  
“Just noticed that you didn’t, like, call my mom a bitch once during that. I think we’re getting along quite well, you know,” Baekhyun says.  
  
Kyungsoo glares at him, punches him, and kisses him, all in that order.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Three days later, Kyungsoo still has faith in humanity when he realises that Sehun hasn’t blabbed about what he had witnessed in Kyungsoo’s office the other day. It’s surprising, considering that Sehun can’t keep his mouth shut in more than one respect. Occasionally, he’ll pass Kyungsoo a knowing look that tells Kyungsoo he has to be careful around him now, lest he pisses Sehun off and Sehun uses his newfound knowledge as potential blackmail, but Sehun doesn’t blab, not yet, anyway. He does, however, offer to switch seats with Baekhyun during a meeting so Baekhyun is sitting next to Kyungsoo, uncomfortably close with their thighs touching and his hand creeping dangerously close to Kyungsoo’s crotch. In this instance, trouble is spelt with a capital B.  
  
“It’s nice to see that you two are friends now,” Joonmyun comments offhandedly as they wait for Minseok to set up his presentation.  
  
Baekhyun beams at him, all teeth. Kyungsoo wishes he could just stuff his cock back in there to wipe the moronic smile off his face. “Of course,” Baekhyun says. His hand squeezes Kyungsoo’s thigh under the table, pressing right next to Kyungsoo’s cock. Kyungsoo worries his lower lip with his teeth and stops himself from glaring at Baekhyun, sending a half-smile instead. “We’ve always been friends. Love-hate relationship.”  
  
“Love-hate relationship,” Kyungsoo repeats, nodding for emphasis. Lying makes baby Jesus cry but that’s definitely not the worst thing he’s ever done to make Jesus cry, so.  
  
Throughout the majority of the meeting, he manages to ignore the sensation, the slight pressure, of Baekhyun’s hand on his skin, warmth seeping through to his bones, even though he can think of a million and one things he would rather be doing right now instead of listening to Minseok drone on about statistics and numbers and a dumb, waste-of-time charity dinner they all have to attend next week. One of them involves a feather duster and a bottle of antibacterial spray; a million of them involve shoving Baekhyun down onto a bed and fucking him so hard that he has to muffle a scream into the pillow. Baekhyun is on his mind an awful lot; too much, maybe, but he supposes that Baekhyun is convenient, both for sex and as a punch-bag.  
  
Recently, though, he’s realised something. He’s realised that the antagonism is slowly melting away, dripping away, and he doesn’t hit Baekhyun as much, doesn’t throw curses, doesn’t fight to see whose hair is shinier or whose skin is better or who can make Zitao cry in less than ten seconds. It’s something that has been happening for a while and he doesn’t know if this is good or bad. Definitely unhealthy that he’s been thinking about it so much. He can’t let this become something more than it already has.  
  
So, he supposes, it doesn’t really help when Baekhyun’s fingers dance over his cock and cups it in the palm of his hand, squeezing lightly. A surprised gasp escapes from Kyungsoo and Minseok pauses with a frown, and Kyungsoo can only shrug and mouth _sorry_ before Minseok continues with his speech. Kyungsoo places a hand on Baekhyun’s knee in warning, nails digging in, and their arms cross, elbows locking together. Baekhyun smirks and takes no heed, taking things further as he slowly inches down the zipper of Kyungsoo’s trousers and rubs Kyungsoo’s cock through his underwear until he’s hard and wet, erection straining against the confinement.  
  
“The fuck,” Kyungsoo hisses under his breath, “do you think you’re doing?” He’s careful to keep his expression steady and his gaze on Minseok. It doesn’t help; in fact, it makes him hyperaware of every touch that Baekhyun has on his cock as he thinks about _not_ thinking about Baekhyun jerking him off.  
  
Baekhyun pouts innocently and shrugs a shoulder. “I’m bored,” he says. “Let me have some fun.”  
  
It’s a no-win situation; he can’t shake his head or he’ll draw attention to himself, which is the worst thing that could happen when his face is starting to heat up and bead with sweat, and if he lets Baekhyun have his fun, the consequences are going to be horrible if anyone finds out. He can’t deny that it sends a tiny thrill through his body, though, as Baekhyun jerks him off leisurely in a room full of people—lower ranking businessmen like Sehun and Jongin, and the higher-ups, like Minseok and Joonmyun. He doesn’t dare to speak, stifling his moans by using his teeth to bite onto his lower lip when Baekhyun digs his thumb into the leaking slit with expert ease, every inch of Kyungsoo’s cock memorised.  
  
Glancing over to Baekhyun, he sees that Baekhyun can’t stop grinning, and it’s irritating at fuck, knowing how much Baekhyun is enjoying this, riling him up and watching him squirm in his seat, utterly helpless to all of Baekhyun’s whims. He takes Kyungsoo right to the edge, to the point where Kyungsoo feels like he’s going to tip over, his orgasm just within reach, before he slows down his pace to lazy tugs on Kyungsoo’s cock and brings Kyungsoo back, eliciting a breathy sigh of annoyance. At one point, Jongin drops his pen on the floor and bends down to pick it up; Kyungsoo stills completely, hoping, praying, that Jongin doesn’t notice. He doesn’t know if Jongin does or if he doesn’t because he doesn’t show it on his face, but what Kyungsoo does know is that the atmosphere has changed in the room; the air is thick and heavy with sexual tension and time seems to be tickling by painfully slowly, the meeting lasting for an eternity.  
  
Finally, Minseok calls it to a close and they all file out, apart from Kyungsoo and Baekhyun. Baekhyun offers to stay a while to discuss matters further, fingers curled in a tight ring around the base of Kyungsoo’s cock as he approaches the edge again, and apparently, those ‘matters’ involve his cock and Baekhyun’s ass. Once everyone leaves, Kyungsoo spits out between moans, “You fucking bastard.”  
  
“Yeah, I am fucking a bastard,” says Baekhyun with a crooked smile. “Congrats, Kyungsoo. You’ve finally seen the light and accepted your true identity.”  
  
“You should be glad that I’m feeling more horny than homicidal right now,” Kyungsoo says. “Maybe if you let me fuck you, I won’t shank you with a knife afterwards.”  
  
Something glints in Baekhyun’s eyes.  
  
“Dying isn’t on my to-do list, today,” he says, “but having sex with you is.”  
  
Turns out, Baekhyun had planned for this to happen. He had planned to work Kyungsoo up until he needed more, and he sinks onto Kyungsoo’s cock with ease, settling on his lap. The things he whispers are nothing short of obscene as he rocks his hips and slings one arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulder for leverage, using his other hand to play with the knot of Kyungsoo’s tie.  
  
“I already opened myself up for you; got myself ready, just for you,” he says, breath cracking as his lips ghost over the shell of Kyungsoo’s ear. He tilts Kyungsoo’s head up and kisses him fiercely, crushing their mouths together so hard that Kyungsoo knows that there’s something more than just pure hate between them. “Can you imagine that, Kyungsoo? Fucked myself with three fingers, but it’s not enough, Kyungsoo, and four isn’t the same as your cock, is it? Think of me, Kyungsoo.”  
  
This time, Kyungsoo is already one step ahead of him.  
  
There is nothing he can say in reply. Baekhyun is hot and impossibly tight around him, and the angle at which he sinks down sheathes Kyungsoo’s cock fully to the hilt, the tip hitting that spot inside Baekhyun dead-on. The tiny, gasping hiccups break through his voice as he continues mumbling lewd things into Kyungsoo’s ears, about how much he wants Kyungsoo to fuck him so hard that the only thing he’ll be able to feel for the next few days will be Kyungsoo’s cock; how he wants Kyungsoo to fuck him so hard that no other cock will be good enough for him. How he wants Kyungsoo to fuck him so hard that he won’t be able to walk tomorrow, won’t be able to talk; how he wants Kyungsoo to make him moan and scream until his voice grows hoarse, so maybe he won’t have to go to that stupid charity dinner. Kyungsoo is only half-listening, focused on jerking his hips up to meet Baekhyun’s thrusts in the quick rhythm that he has set, making his breaths stuttered and strained. He chases his orgasm with Baekhyun’s dirty words ringing in his ears and comes with an unabashedly loud moan, spilling inside Baekhyun, and keeps his cock in there as he jerks Baekhyun off with fast strokes, palm rubbing over the head.  
  
“I swear to god,” Kyungsoo says a few minutes after when he’s caught his breath and mustered up enough energy to send a sharp look in Baekhyun’s direction, “if I find a single fucking speck of come on my suit, I will destroy you.”  
  
Baekhyun smiles as he checks his reflection in the screen of his phone. “So I guess that means you’re up for another round later?” he says mischievously, and his smile is genuine, without a trace of the usual maliciousness or the upturned curl of a sneer. It’s strangely attractive on his idiotic face, Kyungsoo finds himself thinking.  
  
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he replies, slipping out of the room to return to his office.  
  
(He still feels Baekhyun’s grin, burning on his skin, hours later when they’re on his bed and Baekhyun’s hands are fisted in the sheets, knuckles turning white.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Kyungsoo hates these events.  
  
Minseok always makes them go and it’s stupid because they’re always guaranteed to be absolute shit. They are always too stuffy and there are too many old people who smell like their own piss and heavy perfume, the kind that overpowers the bad smell with an even worse smell and generally ends up molesting his nostrils by tenfold, and people who pat his head and coo at him because allegedly, he looks cute. He likes to think of himself as manly, but beauty is subjective, of course.  
  
However, the worst thing of all, he thinks, is the socialising. Talking to normal people is painful enough; talking to people who stink and ask him how his Care Bear collection is coming along is excruciating. It’s awful, but hey, at least there’s free food. There’s a buffet tonight; a selection of European delicacies are laid out on the table, looking like a much more attractive option than having people talk at him about stock exchanges or getting married to their daughters.  
  
Skulking over to the buffet table as inconspicuously as he can, he chooses a plate and starts piling food up. A few seconds later, Kris saunters over and nudges him lightly in the ribs whilst he’s halfway through picking out the marinated olives in his salad.  
  
“Having fun?” Kris teases with a grin. The difference between Kyungsoo and Kris is around fifteen centimetres and also the fact that Kris actually enjoys these insufferable social gatherings, probably because he’s still single and is on the scope for a hot boytoy to cuddle at night. Strictly speaking, Kyungsoo should be, too, but he’s never thought about it before. He’s too young to be tied down—like Miley says, he can’t be tamed. Besides, he doesn’t have time for relationships; work is stressful enough without the high-maintenance bundle of absolute joy, Baekhyun, that comes with it.  
  
“Oh yeah, totes,” Kyungsoo deadpans back, stabbing a tomato with his fork. “Having the time of my life, L-O-L. Hashtag, YOLO.”  
  
Kris lets out a deep chuckle and shrugs. “Well, let me know if you see any hot guys. Daddy is thirsty for some ass.”  
  
“That is disgusting,” Kyungsoo says, feeling his cheeks heat up. He wants to say that he’s blushing because Kris being inappropriate and gross, not because he’s suddenly reminded of that time he had held Baekhyun up by the hips and fucked him on all fours whilst Baekhyun had muffled a scream of his name into the pillow.  
  
“Only God can judge us; forget the haters,” says Kris, shrugging as he spots a tall, skinny boy, clad in a tight-fitting shirt and a blazer draping over his arm, lounging by the drinks counter with a dimple in his cheek as he smiles. Kris pats Kyungsoo on the arm one last time before he begins to make his way over to Potential Boyfriend [#8](http://www.livejournal.com/rsearch/?tags=%238). “Kris Wu, out. See you later, Kyungsoo.”  
  
“Yeah, see you,” Kyungsoo says.  
  
With Kris gone and the thought of talking other people making him physically repulsed, he busies himself with piling more food onto his plate in the hope. Only when a pair of arms wrap themselves around his waist and a head rests itself on his shoulder does he snap out of his food induced reverie and jolts a little bit in surprise.  
  
“Kyungsoo,” someone sing-songs into his ear. An immediate warmth blooms in Kyungsoo’s stomach as he recognises the owner straight away, and mentally reprimands his body for acting like a stupid, lovesick girl when it’s goddamn Byun Baekhyun, of all people.  
  
“What do you want,” he says, gasping a bit when Baekhyun’s teeth catch on his earlobe. They can’t do this here; not here, at a Very Important Dinner for Very Important People hosted by the Very Important Kim Minseok. His cock, the traitor, stirs in his pants anyway, the beginnings of arousal flickering in his gut. It’s embarrassing how quickly his body responds to Baekhyun, the weight of Baekhyun’s chest pressing against his back.  
  
Baekhyun props his chin on Kyungsoo’s shoulder and peers up at him, grinning with bright eyes. His face is a little bit flushed, his hair mussed up, and Kyungsoo thinks he’s probably been out in the garden for a cigarette or something; it’s still chilly outside for a late April evening. Kyungsoo sighs inwardly. If Baekhyun catches pneumonia and dies, who else is he going to shove his cock in? No one else’s ass is quite the same as Baekhyun’s, regardless of how insufferable his personality is.  
  
Noticing Kyungsoo’s sour mood, Baekhyun easily turns Kyungsoo around and tilts his head to press a kiss to his lips, kissing the frown away. Kyungsoo sets the plate on the table, food forgotten as Baekhyun’s thumb presses on his jaw and fingers curl around his face, lips pressing harder. There is something about the way Baekhyun kisses this time; it reminds Kyungsoo of the time Baekhyun had been pissed off about something, unnaturally angry, and Kyungsoo had let him take control to release stress. He had ended up pushing Kyungsoo against the wall and fucking him so hard that Kyungsoo’s moans had radiated through the drywall and Kyungsoo had been sure that half the tenants in his block had heard him moaning Baekhyun’s name.  
  
“Wanna get outta here?” Baekhyun asks. He tastes like smoke and addiction and he knows Kyungsoo can’t possibly resist, much like all the other forbidden things he isn’t allowed to have. “This place is a drag.”  
  
“We can’t,” Kyungsoo says, but that doesn’t stop him from following Baekhyun when Baekhyun drags him by the wrist up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, pushing the door open to reveal an empty bedroom.  
  
“Guest room,” says Baekhyun. “Checked with Minseok. No one’s gonna disturb us here.”  
  
“Did you tell him that we were going to have sex in here too?” Kyungsoo says, cocking an eyebrow.  
  
Baekhyun smirks. “Make me moan loud enough and maybe he’ll find out,” he says.  
  
Kyungsoo wastes no time in pushing Baekhyun down onto the bed, kissing him with teeth knocking into teeth and tongues eagerly curling around each other. True to his word, no one comes in, and it’s all fast and hurried movements as Kyungsoo unbuttons Baekhyun’s shirt and pants and throws them away before ridding himself of his own clothes. He doesn’t waste time with hesitation or tentative touches; he kisses his way down Baekhyun’s body until he reaches Baekhyun’s cock and pulls until Baekhyun is fully hard and begging for more.  
  
This is how Baekhyun ends up on his hands and knees with his ass in the air, offering it to Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo gladly accepts, spreading Baekhyun’s asscheeks with a dig of his fingers. He fits his nose in the cleft of Baekhyun’s ass and flicks his tongue out to swipe against the pucker of Baekhyun’s hole, making him huff out a surprised _oh_ and _fuck, do it again._ He continues that same motion, drawing breathy moans from Baekhyun as he drags the flat of his tongue up the pucker and flicks it against the rim with the slightest amount of pressure. The sounds Baekhyun makes are different from when Kyungsoo fucks him. The sex, the fucking, is raw and animalistic, and it’s so, so easy to push the right buttons to make Baekhyun scream, but this is nicer; Baekhyun lets out occasional sighs of contentment and it’s more of a slow build up to the gasped out streams of _ahs_ and _I can’t, Kyungsoo, I can’t._ Shivers run up Baekhyun’s body as he whimpers and pushes his hips back for more, even though he knows he isn’t going to get it.  
  
“You can’t what?” Kyungsoo says, kissing the rim of Baekhyun’s hole. His words send vibrations up Baekhyun’s body and Baekhyun suppresses a sob, clutching onto the pillow and burying his face in it.  
  
“I can’t—fuck—I can’t; can’t do this,” Baekhyun whines. “Fuck me, oh my god, Kyungsoo. It’s not enough—your cock—I need, _fuck._ ”  
  
Baekhyun’s sentences are disjointed, a sure sign of how far he’s wrecked, and Kyungsoo will give him what he wants. Just not yet. He tenses his tongue to a point and pushes it past the tight ring of muscles, revelling in the contrast of the sensation when he usually has his cock in, and fucks it in and out shallowly, sometimes pausing outside to lick around the rim. Baekhyun is panting, chest heaving and hips twitching as they seek friction against his dripping cock, heavy and wet against his tummy, but he can’t grind down, not with Kyungsoo’s hands strongly holding him up. Kyungsoo alternates between licks up Baekhyun’s hole and playful flicks of his tongue, and Baekhyun is letting out the cutest squeak moans, which Kyungsoo stores away for blackmail material and definitely not wank material later.  
  
“Oh, fuck,” Baekhyun keens in a single breath when Kyungsoo wriggles a finger alongside his tongue and crooks it just right. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”  
  
Kyungsoo smiles as he continues to lap at Baekhyun’s hole, tracing the rim that’s clenching around his finger, sucking it into Baekhyun’s body. He finally pulls away when he adds another two fingers, pushing them in slowly so Baekhyun can feel the slick glide against his walls, and busies his mouth with sucking a mark on Baekhyun’s soft, round ass, the skin untainted.  
  
When he rubs the head of his cock against Baekhyun’s hole teasingly, already slick from the lube from Kyungsoo’s fingers, Baekhyun groans out impatiently, “Fuck, Kyungsoo. Fuck me, oh my god.” He is always so greedy for fingers, so greedy for cock, and that, Kyungsoo supposes, is one thing that redeems him from being the asshole he usually is.  
  
He’s always so greedy so Kyungsoo decides to indulge him, slathering his cock with lube. The liquid drips obscenely down the shaft and makes the filthiest sound, paired with their moans, as he thrusts in. When he fucks Baekhyun, it’s hard and it’s pure animal instinct. His hips jerk with power and yet there is something still graceful about it, the rhythmic slaps of skin against skin. Baekhyun nearly screams when Kyungsoo drives his cock in hard and hits Baekhyun’s prostate with deadly accuracy, angling his thrusts just right. It doesn’t take long for Baekhyun to come, spurting all over his stomach and the bedsheets, and Kyungsoo shoots his load inside, the head of his cock catching on the sore rim of Baekhyun’s ass. Baekhyun’s legs are shaking from the exertion of holding himself up and Kyungsoo whispers, “A little longer,” as he strokes up Baekhyun’s thigh, placing a kiss on the sweat-slicked skin. He leans forward and presses his mouth against Baekhyun’s oversensitive hole, his own come leaking out, and Baekhyun lets out a slight groan of protest.  
  
He collapses onto the bed, chest heaving deeply as he struggles to catch his breath, but Kyungsoo doesn’t let him, diving down to kiss him and making sure that Baekhyun can taste his come since he loves Kyungsoo’s cock so much.  
  
“I am so glad I decided to go to this stupid thing,” Baekhyun sighs. The _because you’re here_ is implied, and a split-second later, both of them realise the implications behind it. Suddenly, this is getting very real, very fast, and Baekhyun’s face drops in horror and mortification and Kyungsoo can only imagine his looks similar as they both realise what the hell this actually means. This means that their thing has turned into a _something,_ and Kyungsoo had known that something was changing when he had stopped calling Baekhyun’s mom a walking STD market and Baekhyun had stopped making fun of his choice in patterned socks.  
  
“Shit,” Baekhyun says. “I—I didn’t mean it in that way. I mean—shit. I need to go.”  
  
He pushes Kyungsoo off and slips on his clothes in silence, almost running out of the room. Kyungsoo watches him go. His heart tugs a little when he doesn’t follow Baekhyun.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They finally have their first conversation after the dinner event a few weeks later, but it doesn’t exactly go how Kyungsoo thought it would. It comes in font size eleven, black, when he is woken up at three am by the chiming of his phone against his pillow. He checks the message, only because it might be something important from Minseok, but lo and behold, it is from no other than Baekhyun, who he had exchanged numbers with in the case of an emergency. Right now, he’s pretty sure that at three am on a Saturday night, there is no emergency to attend to.  
  
Still, he opens the message, once coming after another in succession, and his eyes blink as they try to adjust to the sudden light from the screen, barely making out the tiny black letters against white.  
  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:12)**  
hi  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:12)**  
hiiiiii,.  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:13)**  
hi ims o druujkn  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:13)**  
*drynk  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:13)**  
d*drunk lol   
  
**Byun Baekhyun (received 03:14)**  
and sad;:( r U akwake??/  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:14)**  
:(((comenovr [pls  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:14)**  
kyugnsooooooooooooooooooo :(( oooooooo oo o o  
  
 **Byun Baekhyun (received 03:18)**  
im lonely.:(( i ,miss u  
  
  
Kyungsoo tells himself that it is pity he feels when his fingers rapidly type out a reply and his thumb hovers over the ‘send’ button. Backspace. Retype. He bites his lip, takes a deep breath for a moment, and he doesn’t know what it is, but _lonely_ —it rings in Kyungsoo’s mind, engraves itself there. He knows what it feels like to be lonely, and it’s the worst kind of feeling, being completely helpless with no one around that cares enough to make sure you’re not one step from drinking yourself to death. It’s like a rolling tide, slow and long, that pulls you in and under and drags you down until you’re lost in a sea of blue, and there’s only you, anchored there, sinking, waiting, hoping. It’s not the same as being sad; being sad can be solved in the form of tiny, white circles, but loneliness is the want of something you know you can never have. It’s the constant yearning for something that you don’t even know yourself, but you just know that you can’t possibly have it, ever.  
  
So he gets _it._ He gets why Baekhyun is kind of an asshole because when you’re in a perpetual state of sinking deeper and deeper into that want, it’s sort of hard to be happy. Sure, he jokes around and he smiles; the thing is, no one knows how much of that is genuine. He feels weirdly empathetic towards Baekhyun, feels like Baekhyun probably needs someone right now. Someone who cares, and he doesn’t really know why Baekhyun chose him, but finally, he presses ‘send’ and stumbles out of bed, pulling on a sweater and his shoes.  
  
  
 **Do Kyungsoo (sent 03:24)**  
I’ll be right over.  
  
  
This is the first time anything like this has ever happened. This is the first time he’s thankful for the fact that Baekhyun lives just around the corner, and when he goes over, as luck would have it, the door is already unlocked. He pushes it open carefully and peeks in to see Baekhyun sitting on the door with his back against the couch, the lights dim and some crappy movie playing on the television screen that no one is really watching.  
  
He’s never been in Baekhyun’s apartment before; they’ve always gone to his, and Baekhyun’s apartment a lot different than he’d ever imagined. It’s…clean. It’s clean and it’s tidy and it’s rather empty. There are straight navy curtains hanging down the windows, blocking out the moon, and there’s a huge television in front of a coffee table, coasters neatly arranged in a line. There are a few paintings hung up on the walls and a large cactus growing in the corner in a snazzy plant pot; however, that’s it. There are no framed photographs of him and his friends, no polaroids on his fridge in the kitchen, no clothes on the floor and no funny smells. It’s empty, and most of all, it’s lonely.  
  
With soft footsteps, he walks over to where Baekhyun is and takes a seat next to him, staring at the movie. There’s nothing he can do—because he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. What to do, what to say, without making things worse. What to do, what to say, to make things better. He risks a glance to his side; Baekhyun’s fingers are trembling on the neck of the beer bottle, condensation sliding over the pads of his skin. His eyes are dark and Kyungsoo’s can’t quite see his expression, but his cheeks are wet and shiny and something inside Kyungsoo’s heart tugs, just a little bit. His hand gingerly slides over and rests in the palm of Baekhyun’s free hand, lying next to his thigh, and interlinks their fingers together, sliding between his knuckles. It seems like an awfully intimate thing to do for two people who hate each other, and at the same time, it feels like it belongs, palms stitched together. It feels like he belongs, and for once, he hopes Baekhyun feels the same.  
  
“You shouldn’t drink so much. You know you’re a lightweight,” Kyungsoo says quietly.  
  
Baekhyun laughs listlessly. “I guess so,” he says. His words slur a little bit in a long drawl. Kyungsoo’s grip on his hand tightens. “You’re always right, aren’t you?” There’s a silence where neither of them know what to say; then, Baekhyun speaks up again. “Sorry, my house is kind of gross. I didn’t have time to clean up. Sorry that it smells like crap and anxiety and tasteful lesbian porn.”  
  
Kyungsoo looks around. There’s nothing on the floors, no rings on the table from misplaced cups, and it’s all rather numb. It’s devoid of feeling, completely, apart from the boy sitting next to him who has too much and doesn’t know what to do with it all.  
  
“Lesbian porn, huh? Is that some kind of new Febreeze I don’t know about?” Kyungsoo says, rubbing his fingers over Baekhyun’s bony knuckles. It’s a small but comforting gesture and he feels Baekhyun relax a tiny bit.  
  
“No, _tasteful_ lesbian porn. I don’t watch that cheap, hard-drive-frying shit,” Baekhyun says. He tries to sound like he’s joking around, trying to make things sound better than they are, but some of that sadness seeps through and Kyungsoo doesn’t even know how to begin to describe it. It’s empty and it’s hollow and it sounds so numb, like he’s trying so hard to hide it, and Kyungsoo doesn’t know if that’s better or worse.  
  
He doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. He’s felt like this before, this strange sense of closeness to Baekhyun, despite all their arguments and sharp words, and sure, maybe in another dimension, another universe, another life, they could’ve had a helluva story—but this isn’t _that._ This is now, this is here, and then, it occurs to him that maybe this isn't what he wants anymore. Sure, at first, it had been fun to rile Baekhyun up, and the competitive rivalry was a great incentive to work harder to be the best, something that he had always thought he wanted, but the loneliest thing must be knowing that he has no one to share view with at the top. He knows that he can’t change anything that's already happened, but what he can do is try to fix it. It would be a lot easier to win this game if he just leaves Baekhyun broken and helpless and there’s always that voice that tells him to do it, the part of him that wants to push and fight. He’s not a cheater, though; he doesn’t cheat, and even if life isn’t fair, maybe Baekhyun just needs someone to be fair to him for once.  
  
“Don’t try to fight me,” Baekhyun says tiredly. “I’m sick of fighting. I’m so sick of this.”  
  
“Isn’t that what we do?” Kyungsoo says. “Why did you choose me?”  
  
And Baekhyun turns his head, gives Kyungsoo a look with his red-rimmed eyes, and laughs listlessly. “Because you’re the only person I have.”  
  
Not many people know this about Baekhyun, but he doesn’t have many friends. He has many people that he knows, people he hangs out with at work, like Chanyeol and Jongdae, but he doesn’t have many friends. Kyungsoo knows because he’s always watching Baekhyun, and Baekhyun works in a way that he distances himself, subtly. He doesn’t let himself get too close to anyone and when things become too personal and too _real,_ he’ll back off. Kyungsoo is the only person who Baekhyun hangs out with, really, if sex counts as ‘hanging out,’ and it must be incredibly lonely for him, Kyungsoo thinks. He is afraid of reaching out to people, Kyungsoo thinks, and he’s scared of something; scared of being hurt, being broken, saying the wrong thing, doing the wrong thing, getting too close because that is not how he can win. In a cutthroat corporate world, there are no team games. Go alone, or go home. Lose.  
  
So Kyungsoo knows that if he leaves now, Baekhyun will have no one. Baekhyun is reaching out to him—and maybe it’s a childish playground paradigm where he pulls and tugs at Kyungsoo’s pigtails to get his attention, but this time, Kyungsoo indulges him and bumps their noses together and kisses him chastely. He doesn’t know what to say; actions speak louder than words anyway, and his arm wraps around Baekhyun’s waist to catch him as they both tumble to the hardwood floor. Sex has always been their _thing_ and it’s their fallback, but it doesn’t have to be angry and fast. It might be three am right now, but Kyungsoo’s three am thoughts have always been Baekhyun, and this is better than a phantom touch, a memory of Baekhyun’s fingers tracing his skin in a dream. Kyungsoo hopes he can be what Baekhyun wants.  
  
“It’s the worst thing, you know,” breathes Baekhyun, the bottle of alcohol rolling away from him as Kyungsoo kisses him kisses him kisses him and makes him feel like someone wants him. And Kyungsoo does; Kyungsoo hates him and he wants Baekhyun to hate him back, he thinks, except he’s not even really sure himself now; he doesn’t know what this has spiralled into, this messy, raging inferno, crackling with attraction and hate and Baekhyun. Kyungsoo kisses all the way down the column of his throat, exposed to the cold circulation of the room, and kisses the shadows casted on his deep clavicles, sucking tiny marks there.  
  
“It’s the worst thing and I know that we’re supposed to hate each other,” Baekhyun says. “I know I’m hopeless and I’m stupid and I’m an idiot, but fuck, Kyungsoo, you’re the only one that I have. I always ruin everything because of my big, stupid mouth, and I never know what to say that’s right. I only know how to hurt people, and it’s the worst thing, and I’m sorry. I don’t want to go back to _that_ because sometimes, you just get tired of fighting, you know? Sometimes, you just wanna give up, you know?”  
  
“I know,” says Kyungsoo, tugging up the hem of Baekhyun’s shirt to pepper kisses down his sternum. His hands glide over the smooth skin over Baekhyun’s ribcage, feeling every shudder and shiver beneath his fingers.  
  
“I’m so sorry for everything,” Baekhyun continues to murmur, soft over the darkness. “It’s just that I’ve never been good at these things and if you want to know the honest truth, you’re the person I want to hurt the least. And I know that I’m probably being stupid, that there’s nothing to be scared of, that maybe I’m scared of nothing, but I’m still scared, and I don’t know what to do, and it’s hard because I—it’s hard being alone.”  
  
“I know,” says Kyungsoo, kissing the sharp lines of Baekhyun’s hipbone and biting with his teeth to leave a red mark there, not to spite him but just because…because it feels like he should. A mark, so Baekhyun belongs.  
  
“Right now, you probably still hate me. I don’t hate you. You’re the person I think of at three am. At two am. At one am, at four. And I know I’m drunk, really drunk, but only because I wanted you to notice me, I think, and maybe I wanted you to take care of me, or something, I don’t know—I just wanted you, I _want._ And I’m not going to say I love you, not yet, maybe not ever, because love and like and hate are different things, aren’t they, but I hope that if you like me back, we can give this a chance. Because maybe I’m being selfish because I don’t want to be alone—and fuck, it’s the worst, Kyungsoo; it feels like I’m drowning and drowning and drowning, constantly, because there is no one to pull me out, and there’s a point where I’m supposed to just die and I’m just so sick of it all because I just don’t—but, Kyungsoo, please. I want you. You.”  
  
And Baekhyun doesn’t stop saying that; doesn’t stop telling Kyungsoo how much he wants him, and perhaps it’s the alcohol talking, but there’s a truth to Baekhyun’s words that makes Kyungsoo’s heart clench when he slowly opens Baekhyun up with three fingers and rubs his thumb in circles on the inside of Baekhyun’s thighs. Baekhyun is compliant and needy and he whines for more and for _you_ until Kyungsoo hooks his arms around Baekhyun’s legs and fucks him so slowly with long, languid, deep thrusts. The movement is natural and fluid and it’s something they’re used to, except the feeling swooping in Kyungsoo’s gut is different and his heart beats faster with every one of Baekhyun’s moans and tiny pants. After Baekhyun comes, squeezing around Kyungsoo tightly with the pretty bow of his spine and a long drawl of Kyungsoo’s name, Kyungsoo finishes inside him and helps him up to his bedroom, cleaning him up and tucking him in.  
  
It’s nearing four am when he glances at the clock to check the time. The sun is beginning to rise outside, pale light filtering through the curtains and casting a glow on Baekhyun’s face, and maybe he should go home, but he feels like there’s no point to it now. And in this universe, in this world, he thinks Baekhyun looks beautiful. He climbs into the bed beside Baekhyun, who’s already fallen asleep, and is careful not to knock over the glass of water and aspirin by the side as he pulls the covers over both of them. He finds his body instinctively moving towards the heat radiating from Baekhyun and his arms curling around Baekhyun’s bare torso as he rests his head on Baekhyun’s chest—and they’ve never done this. It’s…nice, Kyungsoo decides. He doesn’t let himself dwell on what that is supposed to mean before he closes his eyes and sleeps.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Kyungsoo wakes up in the morning feeling oddly warm. He lounges around Baekhyun’s apartment for a bit, cooking himself a simple breakfast of toast and coffee as he debates whether to stay or to leave. It’s a Sunday so he doesn’t have anything planned today except for lazing around, and he ends up making himself home on Baekhyun’s couch, feeling too lethargic to go back home. It’s a lot nicer here in daylight; it doesn’t seem so empty, so scary.  
  
A while later that morning, on the brink of ticking over to afternoon, Baekhyun stumbles in, hair sticking up in random tufts. There are circles underneath his eyes and honestly, he looks like shit, but Kyungsoo’s ribcage suddenly feels too small for his heart anyway, thumping, trying to get out. Baekhyun slips a hand up his baggy, oversized T-shirt to scratch his tummy and the way his shirt hitches up as he yawns sleepily tells Kyungsoo that his shorts are riding dangerously low on his hips, bruises tattooed on his skin. He rubs at his eyes, blinking a few times, and nearly jumps out of his skin when he realises that Kyungsoo’s still here, watching television. He bites his lip, suppressing a smile, and makes his way over, shuffling in his bunny slippers. As he sprawls across the sofa with his head in Kyungsoo’s lap, belatedly, Kyungsoo realises that Baekhyun is a welcome weight; a warmth.  
  
“You should shower,” Kyungsoo says, frowning. “Oh, and also, you owe me lunch. I want to go to that sushi place downtown and I’m going to order the most expensive thing on the menu. And you’re going to pay for it.”  
  
Baekhyun hums quietly in reply. He waits, like Kyungsoo is going to push him off, but Kyungsoo just tugs him up slightly to curl his hands around Baekhyun’s jaw, palm against smooth skin. He pulls Baekhyun into a kiss, and it feels different, this time; it’s soft and it’s slow and Baekhyun doesn’t taste like cheap beer or hate or loneliness. Instead, he tastes like minty toothpaste and glowing sunshine, and not ‘love’, not yet, maybe never, but a slowly defrosting bitter rivalry and maybe something a little bit akin to ‘like’. They kiss for a long time, not leading to anything more, sticking to languid swipes of tongue and playful tugs on Baekhyun’s lower lip.  
  
“I don’t hate you, you know,” murmurs Kyungsoo. “Not really.”  
  
Baekhyun grins and kisses up Kyungsoo’s jaw. “What is that supposed mean?”  
  
“But,” continues Kyungsoo, ignoring him, “it doesn’t mean I like you either. It just means I’m not entirely opposed to your presence around me.”  
  
“And what is _that_ supposed to mean?”  
  
“It means…I don’t mind you getting up, y’know, all in my grill,” says Kyungsoo.  
  
And Baekhyun doesn’t say anything to that; he just slides off Kyungsoo’s lap and into the seat next to him, leaning into Kyungsoo’s warmth, unable to hide the slight curve of his lips. For the rest of the day, they stay there on the couch with Baekhyun’s mouth on his collarbones, neck, jaw, mouth, pressing gently whilst the television plays an old rerun that neither of them are watching.  
  
(Baekhyun never buys him that lunch, but he manages to make up for it in other ways.)


End file.
